


Second Epilogue

by deathishauntedbyhumans



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Accidental dad, Fix-It of Sorts, Found Family, Gen, Light Angst, Post-Canon, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, let the sad old man be happy gdi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 17:49:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17248706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathishauntedbyhumans/pseuds/deathishauntedbyhumans
Summary: Sometimes the happy ending isn’t what you expect.





	Second Epilogue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [humorless_hexagon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/humorless_hexagon/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Second Epilogue](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20323573) by [Anakris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anakris/pseuds/Anakris)
  * Inspired by [Epilogue](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17204777) by [humorless_hexagon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/humorless_hexagon/pseuds/humorless_hexagon). 



> I saw Into The Spiderverse,,,, my friend wrote a fic,,,, now it’s my turn.

Things don’t work out with MJ. 

It’s so  _ hard  _ to go back to his life, his job, his same-old, messed-up existence. He wants to whine and cry and throw things (and he  _ does _ do his fair share of that, even though he won’t ever admit it) but in the end, it doesn’t change anything. Shoving a picture of MJ deep down into his sock drawer doesn’t make the hurt in his chest go away, or fix the nagging ache in his stomach that no amount of pizza can fix. 

He’s doing more  _ Spider-Man  _ things, at least. Sure, his life sucks, but at least the weird trip to that other dimension gave him  _ some  _ small amount of motivation to actually be a hero again. He’s kept the city safe before now, of course, but he hasn’t gone patrolling for crime — _ looking for trouble _ — for years. It feels good, in some backwards, long-forgotten part of his head that he hasn’t used in a long time. 

Being a hero might be unbelievably exhausting, but it beats crying into his mask in the shower every night, so Peter will take what he can get. 

When he’s not lamenting the way things turned out with MJ —stupid, it’s  _ stupid _ to think about her, so utterly  _ stupid _ — he lets his mind wander to Miles. The kid has to be alright, now that their dimensions are all back where they should be. He hopes the kid is alright. He was a good kid, Miles was. Brash and wild and headstrong —and  _ annoying _ , yeesh— but kind, with a good heart and a better head on his shoulders than Peter could ever hope to have. Even at such a young age, Miles was going places. 

Man, the whole multiverse thing sucked. Peter might’ve given up being Spider-Man forever if it meant he’d get to see Miles again. 

It’s late one night when he gets back to his apartment and sees a stooped figure curled up in front of his building. He considers his window for a moment longer —warm bed, pizza… it’s been a long night!— but ultimately, swings down to where the figure is lying on the ground, just to make sure there’s no trouble afoot. 

Instead of trouble, Peter finds a young child, younger than Miles had been, shivering uncontrollably underneath a thin jacket on the front steps of his building. 

“What the—“ he begins to mutter, and the child startles and sits bolt-upright, eyes wide. He stares at Peter, fear evident, though he does calm some when he sees Spider-Man in front of him. 

“Spider-Man,” the kid whispers. His voice is cracked and nasally, and he sniffles, wiping his nose on the jacket. Peter grimaces under the suit. 

“What’re you doing out here, kid?” Peter asks, and the kid draws the jacket more tightly around himself before he answers. 

“Ma said I can’t go home no more,” he mumbles. A particularly chilly gust of wind blows by and the kid trembles harder. In the light from the streetlamp, Peter is pretty sure the kid’s lips are blue. “So’m here ‘til she changes her mind.” 

“Oh,” Peter says, a little dumbly, because who the hell would  _ have children  _ if they didn’t want them? He hadn’t wanted them, so he hadn’t had them! Regardless of his feelings on the subject now, he’d never done something as stupid as bring a kid into the world only to toss it out on the street. 

A sliver of hope: maybe Peter’s  _ not _ the worst person in the world. 

He reaches forward, past the kid, and tugs the door to his building open. “Go inside,” he tells the kid, gentle but firm. “I’ve got, uh… a friend who’ll let you in. Name’s Peter. Tell him Spider-Man sent you, yeah? Apartment 42C. Fourth floor.” 

The kid stares at him, wide-eyed. Peter jiggles the door a little. “Well? Go on. I don’t have all night.”

The kid scrambles into action all at once. He grabs the jacket from around himself and bunches it up in his arms before hopping up to wrap his arms tightly around Spider-Man. Peter can only stare as the hug is released —very quick, this kid seems to have a short attention span— and the kid darts into the building. 

Peter barely manages to pull his costume off before the kid knocks on his door. 

It doesn’t take long before news of ‘Spider-Man’s friend, Peter B. Parker, spreads around. Apparently, the kids in New York have some kind of underground system or something, Peter theorises, because night after night, there are kids knocking on his door, begging entry for a night away from the streets and the cold. And he lets them in. He grumps and grouses at the older ones, the ones who know him, the ones he knows can take it, but at the end of the day, he likes having the kids around. 

He’s pretty sure half of them have figured out he’s Spider-Man, too, but they never say anything about it, and he doesn’t ask. As weird as it feels, he actually trusts these kids with his secret. They’re good kids. 

He starts learning their names a few weeks into his impromptu babysitting gig. Jakob and Spencer and Eliza, Caroline and Shaun and Derik. They abide by his rules without question: they don’t stay in the apartment without him or try to sneak in, they don’t steal his food, they don’t get loud when he’s asleep. They’re  _ good kids _ , and after a few more weeks go by, he starts thinking of them as  _ his kids.  _

One night, when it’s snowing outside, Peter stumbles blearily into his apartment after a particularly bad fight. His eye is already swollen; it aches and twinges as he tugs the mask off. He changes slowly, every muscle in his body protesting the movement. When he finally opens the door to let his kids in, they take one look at him and seem to decide, unanimously, that it’s their turn to help him. 

Caroline and Shaun lead him to the bed and get him to lie down, and Eliza warms up a slice of pizza in the microwave. Jakob curls up by his side with a book —he always has a book, and it’s always a different one; Peter doesn’t ask how he gets them—and Spencer makes sure the other kids, the ones who aren’t regulars, the ones stopping in for the first or second night, are taken care of. 

Peter lets it happen, because he’s too tired to fight it, and honestly? If he’s going to let anyone take care of him, he’s gonna let his kids.

He falls asleep before the pizza’s out of the microwave. 

When he wakes up, his regulars are all curled up with him in bed. Eliza’s feet are too close to his face and Derik —tiny Derik, the very first of his kids— is snuggled up to his chest beneath the blanket. The rest of them are scattered beside him, and Peter momentarily considers pushing them off the bed… he doesn’t. These are his kids. These are  _ his kids _ . They’re good kids, and for the first time since Miles showed up during that last fight they’d had together and punched Doc Ock in the face, Peter is actually proud of himself. He’s finally doing something right in his own dimension.

MJ would be proud of him, he thinks, and lets himself fall back asleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> !!!!!!!!!!
> 
> Kudos/comments are love! Come scream at me on tumblr @deathishauntedbyhumans.


End file.
